Another Use For HighHeeled Shoes
by Before the Sun Sets
Summary: Who knew those heels would come in handy some day? Oneshot drabble, some AngelCollins. Rated to be VERY safe


**Disclaimer:** RE_N_T is Jonathan Larson's masterpiece, not mine.

**Plot:** Who knew those heels would come in handy some day? Oneshot drabble, some AngelCollins

**A/N: **Yep, I'm writing another one only a day after the first. What can I say, I've got inspiration! This was a random idea that popped into my head at school earlier, hope you like it! Reviews welcome, flamers are wasting their time.

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Angel danced and twirled around the kitchen, banging pots and pans and rattling things as she got things together for dinner. Tonight would be pasta; no balls, meatless or otherwise. It was a little late; the sun had sunk beneath the horizon several hours ago, but Collins had said that morning he'd be a bit late getting back, so Angel wasn't worried.

Her floral print skirt swirled around her green tight-clad legs, and she was very careful not to get the red sauce on her nice green, orange, and yellow sweater. This was her favorite outfit, after all, and sauce was a very hard stain to get out!

As she prepared dinner with an unusual amount of energy, even for her, she hummed a catchy little tune with a contented smile on her face. If she'd been singing the words, it would have sounded something like this;

_Live in my house,_

_I'll be your shelter,_

_Just pay me back_

_With one thousand kisses…_

She heard the keys jingling in the lock and the door swinging open, calling out, "That you, Collins?" The sound of a door closing, a coat being hung up, and then her lover appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Hi, love." he said simply, catching her as she went by and pulling her into a hug and a kiss hello. She returned them gladly, lingering for at least half a minute in the kiss before pulling away and skipping off again to grab a wooden spoon from the counter nearby.

Collins watched her from the doorway, an amused and loving look on his face. "What's put you in such a good mood? Did you find a skirt you really liked?" Angel had told him that morning she was going shopping, though she didn't usually buy things on these outings, just looked for inspiration for her own skirt-making.

Angel didn't reply until she'd stirred the sauce for a moment, then placed the lid on top of the pot. "Nope." She set the spoon down slowly beside the stove, knowing Collins was incredibly curious now. She drew it out, doing small pointless tasks until her lover couldn't take it anymore and burst out. "So what happened?"

She turned to him with a smile and took his hand, leading him into the living room. "I thought you'd never ask." she remarked teasingly. They had about ten minutes until the sauce would be done, so she may as well tell him the story where they couldn't knock things over.

Plopping onto the couch and pulling him down beside her, she thought back to what had happened earlier that day, and began to tell the story;

_The sun had already gone down, and it was beginning to switch from sunlight to artificial lights on the streets of New York City. However, it was currently that short transition between, where the streetlights had yet to come on, but the natural light had mostly faded. Angel Dumott Schunard trotted down the street, her heels clacking rather loudly, thinking fondly of all the great skirt ideas she'd gotten today._

_She turned absently into an alleyway that she knew would take her home quicker than sticking to the main streets, not thinking about the fact that this was the ideal time for muggers and thieves to be out and about. _

_Wait… was that… footsteps? She stopped suddenly, and heard a single footstep before they, too, stopped. When she began to walk again, she could hear the footsteps behind her, getting closer with each minute._

_Angel stopped again, now hearing soft footfalls as her pursuer crept nearer. What was she going to do?? The footsteps grew louder; her follower must be confident she wouldn't run or put up a fight. She shuffled her feet, terror flooding through her body._

Clack.

_Her heel hit loudly against the street, striking Angel with an idea. Reaching down, she slid off one of her heels, black color making it almost invisible in the twilit air. Balancing easily on the remaining shoe, she waited until the footsteps were very close, then whirled around and, holding her removed shoe by the toe, dealt a fierce blow to her attacker's head with the heel. _

_He howled and reeled back, the bruise already beginning to form in the center of his forehead. Angel raised the shoe again and took a hopping step forwards. The man turned and fled, presumably to find an easier victim._

_A smug grin spread across Angel's face as she put her shoe back on and continued along the alley towards her apartment, mind already turning to what she would make for dinner for her love._

As Angel finished her story, she also took her first bite of spaghetti. The story had taken longer than she thought, and she'd had to get the sauce off the oven while in the middle of the tale.

Collins finished his own bite of spaghetti and grinned widely at her; he'd gotten quite a kick out of her beating up a potential mugger with a high-heeled shoe. He leaned over the small table and kissed her, long and passionately, ignoring the fact she had a load of spaghetti in her mouth. Eventually their lips parted, and he said in a gentle voice, "That's my Angel."

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Review please! 


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